


Good Boy

by Jedtree



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bunny Venom Symbiote, Human Disaster Eddie Brock, Inexperienced camping, M/M, Possessive Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Protective Venom Symbiote (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedtree/pseuds/Jedtree
Summary: Eddie’s lost his fiancee, his job, and his reputation. Depressed and fed up with life, he starts a video web series called “Winging It” where he intends to do the bare minimum of research before attempting random things.Episode 1 : City Boy “Winging It” at CampingMeanwhile, Venom is making his escape from Life Foundation’s labs inside a "bunny suit".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting to realize that, no matter how absurd the premise, somehow I'll find a way to spin it into something serious. Unintentionally, I swear. 
> 
> There should be humor in this. Just maybe not right out of the gate. 
> 
> Possibly because my week sucked. 
> 
> As before, status updates can be found on my twitter @jedtree  
> And I can be messaged on tumblr at https://jedtree.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, thank you once again to everyone who left comments on the last fic! Know that they're the main reason the updates were so fast. They're a big motivating factor and brighten my day every time. Be they complimentary or constructive in nature, just the fact that you took the time to read and let me know what you thought, it means a lot ^_^ Salut!

The first Host Venom is forced into knows less about the situation than he does. He tries to explain to the frightened thing the sequence of events that resulted in this situation, but the lifeform’s vocabulary is too simple for Venom to communicate verbally and when he tries to share his memories of the experience, it only serves to increase the fluffy creature’s confusion and stress.

Venom’s initial assumption is that the overlords who forced him to seek refuge in this hapless creature did so on purpose, to ensure that he’d have as little information to work with as possible. Clever - to place him in a soft, fragile, fluffy lifeform that’s had no formal education and hardly any informal education, doesn’t understand its environment, and has only known a handful of handlers throughout its short life.

The creature is a subservient tool of the overlords from which Venom can glean almost nothing of use.

His assumption, however, is immediately revised upon introduction to his next Host because, rather than fluffy, soft and simple, this new Host calls itself a human and both looks and smells like the overlords that observe Venom’s entry into it from the other side of a transparent wall. 

Immediately, he takes advantage of his new residence. The body and mind of the human creature are too complex for Venom to intuitively drive, so he settles first on basic reconnaissance, asking the human - 

**where is this place,**

**who are these people,**

**what do they want,**

**how is this building laid out?**

The human is much better at answering these questions than the fluffy creature had been, but it quickly becomes clear that this Host is considered a reject in the society of the overlords. Its memories are riddled with strife, hunger, addiction. 

This laboratory is a means of rescue for this human and so it rebels against Venom when it realizes he wishes to escape. Because he cannot control the human body without some study of its controls, Venom has no choice but to eat the human’s insides when he feels it decide to inform the overlords of his plans. 

He fully expects to once again be placed in fluffy Hosts or to be disposed of.

Instead, the overlords present him with Hosts of ever-increasing worth. Maybe they wish him to destroy these vessels, but given the speed he’s presented with more, Venom guesses they aren’t checking for the cause of death and rather presupposing one.

Which is terribly convenient. 

The two lab techs and the scientist he eats before the overlords decide to stop sacrificing their best and brightest let him absorb everything he needs to know about their motivations, the state of the planet, the ways of this world, lab layouts and their inventories, along with copious academic knowledge about different sciences and human languages. When he eats their organs, they taste of freedom. 

By the time he’s placed back in one of society’s dregs, Venom knows enough to have a plan. The only thing left is to learn how to drive so, with Maria, he remains quiet and patient. Doesn’t speak to her or give her any indication he’s there, cataloguing her internal organs, tracing their connections to other systems, following each system separately back to the brain. 

And after that, essentially, he experiments - moving a hand, raising different fingers, standing and sitting down, traversing between organs without causing pain, touching different nerve strands to see what Maria’s reaction is, manipulating her facial expressions into empathy-inducing faces. 

Throughout the process, he tries not to delve too deeply into the memories of this human. He has enough factual information to mount his escape attempt, so there’s no reason to go sifting through too much of this human’s past. No use getting to know her if he might have to dispose of her later. She’s easier to like than the lab techs and he’s been inside her longer so there’s greater risk of attachment. 

But he looks just enough to see the parts of the world she’s familiar with, skimming through her recent past for places to seek refuge and, for some reason, Maria’s first thought is of another human - a kind man in a leather jacket whose smile, these days, seems a little sad. She considers him a refuge in an environment where she’s often ignored or abused, because he  _ sees _ her. He makes her feel safe, even though all he does is give her money and ask her questions about her life. 

Venom lets her submerge herself in those memories on occasion because it calms her, but today, he redirects her thoughts towards more useful forms of refuge. 

**Where can I find shelter as this?** He shows her an image of the fluffy creature. 

_ A bunny rabbit? Why not run away as one of the guards?  _ It’s the first question she’s ever asked him. The first indication of her awareness of him. 

The only reason Venom responds is because, at this point, there’s only a handful of hours before nightfall when he intends to make his move. So, there’s no danger of forming an attachment. And this time, he knows how to drive a human. If she decides to turn on him, attempts to turn him in, he’ll be able to take over. 

So, he shares his reasoning with her.

**Don’t know any of the guards. Could end up in an incompatible vessel.** He shows here an image of a stalled car. **Or, they could be mentally strong enough to put up resistance. And in order to secretly transfer into a guard, too much would need to be left to chance. They would need to catch you mid-escape and touch you skin-to-skin, which could be difficult given that I’ve often seen them covered from neck to toe. If they choose to use gas, if they wear masks, or shoot you with a tranquilizer dart and handle you with gloves, the only transfer I could make would be obvious. Running away openly inside a guard would not be ideal. They could have tracking tech in their uniforms, and they’re slower than the bunny, make a bigger target.**

**And, then if everything were to go right, I’d be stuck inside a guard.** He shows her the surly-faced, beefy guards who work this shift, according to the lab techs Venom ate.  **Which one of them looks like a good vessel? Especially given the energy it would take to drive them for long enough to safely leave the compound. With the way I have been starved, it will take all the energy I have left just to leave this cage and steer the rabbit. Unless you’re offering to be my meal?**

_ Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Let’s go with your bunny idea.  _

**So, any good places to shelter as a bunny?** he asks again.

Maria hums in thought.  _ The bunny - does it have white fur?  _

He shows her the fluffy, white creature in perfect detail. 

_ Ok, well, rabbits in this area tend to be a bit bigger and their coats are typically brown or ruddy or grey. You’ll need to roll around in mud to dirty up that white coat, and stick to the woods. If you end up in a populated area, stay hidden until nightfall. Be careful what you eat because people like to cover their lawns in pesticides and leave traps around their gardens. Other than that, I don’t know what else to tell ya’. _

Venom sighs in annoyance. Just thinking about the journey ahead is daunting. Especially as he tries to envision his life after the escape. Assuming he succeeds, what then? Come back in a different Host to free the other symbiotes? How many symbiotes have survived this place? How many were captured? Is there a way to get back home? Does he even  _ want _ to go back home? He could just ditch his fellow symbiotes and live out his life on this planet, jumping from Host to Host. But to what end? 

In any case, his future is a white noise of unknowns. He decides not to think about it ands spends the last few hours before nightfall ignoring Maria’s occasional questions and reviewing his escape plan. 

  
  
  


It’s about midnight when Venom takes control of Maria for the last time. 

The technicians should have all gone home by now, leaving the lab nearly empty and staffed by guards who are more concerned about intruders getting in than test subjects getting out. 

Blessedly, the overlords seem to have learned nothing of the true power of symbiotes over the course of the week. Approaching the thick glass of his prison, Venom fits himself over the top of Maria’s hand in the shape of a mallet, with two rows of diamond-strong, needle-pointed teeth sticking out from the flat end. All he needs is to make a small crack in the glass to weaken the whole structure. 

The first punch with all his force behind it creates a necklace of piercings along the top layer. The second punch, perfectly aimed to hit those minimal divots with the same amount of force, creates spider webs across a few layers of glass. The third punch triggers the lab-wide alarm as the machine monitoring his prison recognizes the failing integrity of the structure. And the fourth punch breaks him out. 

Shards explode outward, covering the floor. 

Venom spares Maria’s feet, padding them with his skin as he directs her to run towards the adjacent animal testing wing of the lab.

_ You doing ok? You sound exhausted.  _

Mouth full of appendix, Venom doesn’t answer. Just shows her the memory of a numbered cage he spent some time in. The bunny who’d Hosted him had been fast and healthy, nervous but not as much as its brethren in neighboring cages. 

Maria finds the cage and hits the simple unlocking mechanism. 

As soon as her hand touches fur, Venom starts the transfer. It’s not an instantaneous process and, as she’s standing there, Venom nearly gone from her, Maria seems to realize the position she’s in. 

Standing in a lab, hurried footsteps of guards growing closer, coming for her. 

She asks out loud, “What’s going to happen to me?” 

Venom’s too busy trying to calm his new Host to give even a semblance of an answer. The sound of the alarm is so much sharper,  _ wilder _ with ears this sensitive. He has to put the poor creature to sleep for the time being in order to avoid drowning in foreign panic. 

Aware of the cameras littering the lab, Venom moves quickly, hopping onto the cage and sending up a tendril into the nearest grate along the overhead ventilation shaft. Knocking the grate out of the way, Venom reals his small-bodied Host up into the shaft, leaving Maria behind. She shouts for him, but there’s nothing he can do to help her. Not that she even needs help. After all, she can blame everything on him. 

The shaft is dark. It echoes and vibrates unnaturally around Venom as he uses the bunny’s substantial speed to quickly traverse the ventilation system, heading every closer towards the smell of fresh air along the path one of the lab techs had unwittingly helped him work out.

For the first time, Venom realizes that the instincts of his Host cannot fully be suppressed, even in unconsciousness. Even as he explodes from the building, ensconced in a protected ball of his own skin, Venom’s heartbeat is panicked. 

The tiny creature’s body briefly freezes out in the open as spotlights from the building land on white fur in a sea of shadowy grass. It takes Venom more energy than he’s comfortable with to get tiny muscles into motion again, forcing the creature to sprint on fully extended legs towards the electrified fence. 

Finding a spot where the dirt comes loose underfoot, Venom forces the bunny to dig. Strong hind legs send dirt flying as the guards sprint ever closer, tranquilizer darts already stabbing into the earth next to Venom’s head. 

But, as Venom had suspected, the small, wriggling bunny makes for a difficult target and before any of the guards can reach him, they’re sailing down the slope behind Life Foundation’s Laboratories and into the woods behind it. 

  
  
  
  


“This has got to be one of the stupidest ideas I’ve ever had,” Eddie decides, dragging both hands down his face as he peeks over the tips of his fingers at the undeniable proof that Anne was right to dump him.

Not just because he cost Anne her job, but also because he’s a moron who fails at life. 

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” he asks the camera before turning it around to present $800 worth of camping equipment. The worst part is, even though he knows this is probably a mistake, he’s going to go through with it anyway.

After all, the point of his online video series - aptly-named “Winging It” - is to try doing things without prior knowledge or research. It’s not a bad premise, in and of itself. Just it probably would’ve been smarter to choose as his first topic something a little safer to fail at - like oragami or skateboarding. 

Instead, here he is, slowly preparing all his recent purchases for transport to the campsite. “Is it just me or does this seem excessive? I bought the Kitchen Bundle, the Tools & Repair Bundle, the Navigator Bundle, along with a tent, a sleeping bag, and one of those high-powered flashlights off this website called...Autonomous Adventurers,” Eddie says, reading the receipt. 

“Supposedly they’re experts in the field of...camping? Outdoor survival? Actually, I don’t know if they ever specified what they were experts at, but at least the items in these kits look legit. By which I mean I’ve seen them in movies where camping activities were taking place. Although, I would’ve thought these things” Eddie picks up one of the firestarter logs and shakes it in front of the camera, “would be easy enough to find just out in nature, amidst the bushes and the trees. You know, for free?” 

Sitting down amidst his small mountain of equipment, he says, “I’m going to be in Yosemite National Park, which is about 3 hours away from San Francisco, so not too far. I’ve got a two week reservation at a campground called Mothma. Which is one letter away from being Mothman, so it seemed appropriately spooky, given that Halloween is around the corner. I’ll see you guys out there,” he says, winking at the camera and feeling incredibly stupid and self-conscious as he does so. He’ll have to edit his grimace out. 

As soon as the camera’s turned off, his expression falls. 

Fuck, how is this his life right now? 

Yes, he bought all this equipment and mentally committed himself to starting this video series while he was drunk and alone on his couch on a Friday night, but it’s only now hitting home just how much work he has ahead of him. 

He feels tired, listless, drained of all energy. He doesn’t want to go camping. He wants to sit on the couch in a warm baggy sweater eating popcorn and drinking beer. 

But all this shit was expensive and he’s already paid for his reservation at Camp Mothma. And there’s nothing like money sunk into a venture to get him to face his commitments. With a heavy sigh, he grabs the nearest box and heads out the door to start packing shit into the rented Toyota. 

  
  
  
  


The campsite is not what he expected. Probably because he also made the reservation while he was drunk. He hadn’t read any of the details, making his selection 100% based on how cool the name sounded. 

Only now, panning the camera across the wide clearing, full of families with little, screaming kids and loud yappy dogs, does he realize this isn’t the camping trip he’d been expecting. There’s cabins with pool tables, TVs, and proper restrooms in the back, with groups of people huddled around designated camp lots spaced evenly apart in grid formation. 

This is not the seclusion and isolation he’d been hoping for. 

He wants to be alone. 

Away from people. Away from judging glares and patronizing tisks. Away from criticism and public outcry and internet hate comments on all his videos with people whining that he’s wrong about the Life Foundation, that his comments about Carlton Drake are misguided and unfair. Away from the news. And as far away from memories of Anne, or his job, as he can get. He just wants to be...

Away. 

Alone. 

Gone fishing. 

He wants the camera to be his only companion. 

Used to talking to cameras and imagining an audience on the other end, Eddie wants to vent and share his side of the story in between documenting his “adventure” out in the woods and then be able to delete it afterwards. He wants to feel like he’s working and being productive, even as he wallows in what his life and reputation have been reduced to. 

And this is not the kind of place where he can do any of that. 

Yeah, fuck no. 

He’s not staying here. 

“Okay, new plan,” Eddie props the camera at a slant in the trunk of his rented Toyota and points at the viewfinder. “We’re upping the stakes.” 

Rifling through the boxes, he starts sifting through the contents and organizing them into groups. “We’re going to go out into the woods, away from this crowd, with only as much stuff as I can fit into my hiking pack. Which means, only taking the things that are absolutely necessary for survival. So, none of this junk,” he pulls out a firestarter log and shakes it at the camera, “is coming with me. After all, where’s the fun in winging it if you can just turn around and ask your neighbor if you’re doing it right?” he says, his best fake grin plastered to his face.

Once he’s done organizing, he starts placing items into his backpack, showing them to the camera as they go in and listing them off, “We will be taking with us...a compass…a few sets of these water purification tablets...a map...some granola bars...this first aid kit...flashlight and matches...gotta have the swiss army knife, if only to stab unsuspecting serial killers who might be hiding out in the woods...beef jerky and two cans of beans...more purification tablets...antibacterial soap…” 

The sleeping bag, he straps to the top of the pack.

“And, last but not least, some extra memory and a set of fully-charged camera batteries so that I don’t run out of juice in the process of filming this. By the way, if you’re seeing this then you can probably assume I survived the experience.” Eddie winks at the camera, before turning it off. 

As soon as he’s not recording, he leans against the side of the car and looks out onto the scene. Seeing so many happy families doing something together, Eddie feels an ache in his chest. Life feels so fucking disappointing in this moment. 

As a kid, he’d often felt powerless in a world where decisions were always being made for him. He’d hated being told what to eat, when to sleep, where to live. Forced to spend his days in a classroom learning things he wasn’t interested in. Back then, he’d felt trapped and the expectation he’d had was that adulthood would feel like freedom, without ever realizing how much he’d lose in the process of growing up. 

Adulthood is a lot less fun when you realize that there are no safety nets. 

Nobody gives a shit if your life’s falling apart. 

No one wants to hear about your problems. 

And it’s all too easy to lose everything. 

With a weary sigh, he zips up his leather jacket, heaves the heavy pack onto his back, holds the popup tent under his arm, and begins the slightly inclined climb into the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beast in the forest meets a tourist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're thinking, what took so long? it's because I severely underestimated what spending a few weeks with grandmothers who don't have internet would do to my planned timeline. Should be faster now, if all goes well and I maintain my promise from last year to write at least a little every day. I'm still in the process of catching up with life, but I think I'm back on the wagon now. 
> 
> In any case, thanks for all the comments - they are the greatest payoff when writing a story. Thanks so much for being patient with me ^_^

“The hardest part of camping has to be the navigation, right? I mean, I’ve seen the news stories - people getting lost in the woods, strangers discovering their bodies months later, sometimes just a few miles from the salvation of a road. It’s why I’ve got a map-compass combo and a vague sense of how to use both.” Eddie winks at the camera. 

The effect is kind of spoiled when he trips over a root. 

“Oops, gotta remember to edit that out,” Eddie mutters, righting the camera so that he’s in frame on the LCD screen. 

Clearing his throat, he continues, “But, yeah, honestly? How difficult can the rest of it be? I mean, it’s just sleeping in the woods. Should be easier than being homeless. Don’t have to worry about people snatching shit when I’m unconscious, or attacking me for the helluvit. Water’s plentiful, readily available, and I know for a fact that I can last for a few weeks without food.”

He blinks a few times, surprised at his own honesty. “Future Eddie? Cut this part out too. World doesn’t need to hear all that. Wouldn’t want them drawing certain conclusions...” 

With a shake of his head, partially to dispel the pall of bad memories, he forces his voice chipper, claiming, “This is going to be a piece of cake.” 

Following his compass north from Camp Mothma, he hits what he assumes is Tuolumne River and then walks along the bank heading East. Tentatively, he’s aiming for Virginia Lake, since the river flows right into it. If all goes well, Cold Mountain should eventually be on his right, which might make for a good detour to film some footage. 

Looking at a map, the path ahead appears straightforward. Sure, most of Yosemite won’t have signposts to validate that he’s going in the right direction, but following a river shouldn’t be all that different from following an unmarked street to a destination. 

He’s convinced of this until, of course, he arrives at the first “crosswalk” of the Tuolumne only to discover that the map doesn’t exactly match reality, with more options in front of him than there should be. Or is it just his perspective? 

He shows his imaginary audience the river and then the map. “Ok, so, the map is a bird’s eye view. Staring at the river from the side, it’s hard to count just how many branches lead away from it. What should I do?” 

He pauses for effect, but he’s already made up his mind. 

“Well, the map says take the rightmost branch, which should continue towards Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, the first stop along the path to my destination. Surprise, surprise...we’re going right.” 

It’s not long before he regrets his decision. The branch gets thinner and thinner the longer he follows it, before finally petering into a shallow brook which quickly becomes a trickle. 

What the fuck? 

“Uh...guys? Whatever the hell this branch is that I’ve been following, I don’t see it on the map.” He points the camera at the map, and then shows off the soggy ground where there should be a lot more water. “All of a sudden, I’m not so sure that I’ve been following the Tuolumne. Or maybe it’s not on the map because this branch is so small? Or maybe it sprang up because of seasonal flooding? When  _ is _ the rainy season in Yosemite? April? Except, it’s October. It would’ve dried out by now, right?” 

With an annoyed sigh, Eddie says, “In any case, we need to turn around.”

He crosses over to the other side of the rivulet and follows it back to the actual river to try again. 

The second time, at least his navigation is more successful, but another problem emerges after a few hours have ticked by - Eddie gets thirsty. 

He starts digging through his rucksack for the water bottle he’s sure he packed, but it’s not there. At first, he thinks he somehow lost it, but he filmed his transfer of materials. Reviewing the footage, Eddie finds that at no point did he pack the water bottle from the Kitchen Bundle. 

Taking out the camera, Eddie can’t help sighing again as he hits record. 

“Apparently, there’s something wrong with me,” he mutters, “because if there’s one thing you really need to remember to pack, it’s a water bottle. Maybe some of you noticed as I was packing, but I didn’t put one in my bag. So, the question is, should I turn around after a day of following a stupid river that doesn’t match the map I have of it back to camp, or do I continue onward?” 

Rubbing the top of his head in indecision, Eddie continues, “I mean, sure, I could just cup my hands and drink water straight out of the river, but that would mean skipping the water purification tablets and risking who knows what. If you’re not aware, lots of US waterways are polluted. I mean, sure, animals probably pee in the water, and fish and frogs live inside it, but people also throw their trash in. Or sometimes companies drain dirty chemical water into rivers and waterways. Enforcement of EPA regulations can be spotty, and it’s often cheaper for corporations to pay a fine than to keep the environment clean. 

“So, yeah, bad idea to drink straight out of the river. I should probably use the water purification tablets. Which leads me to my next question - is there anything in my pack I can use as a container?” 

Digging through his things, Eddie finds the bean cans and shows them to the camera. “I could clean one of these out? I’m not actually hungry though.” 

In fact, he hasn’t had much of an appetite since his life went off the rails. The only times he’s eaten in the past few weeks have been when he was drunk, mostly to mitigate hangovers. His diet has consisted of mainly junk food and cheap beer. 

“You shouldn’t waste rations, but I’m not a huge fan of beans and I’ve got two cans,” Eddie says, popping the easy-open tab on the can of black beans. With a hum of disgust, he dumps the water-salt-n-bean slime onto the grass, then uses a leaf to mop up the goo clinging to the sides before rinsing the can. 

Once he’s got a makeshift cup, he fills it with water and follows the directions on the water purification tablets. It’s a whole half-hour wait for one can of water, and when he takes his first sip, he nearly spits it back out again. 

“Holy shit, this is disgusting.” Pointing at the viewfinder, he says, very seriously, “This is why you should always read product reviews. I honestly don’t know if I can stand to drink this shit. Can you boil the bacteria out of water? I feel like I remember my grandmother boiling tap water she didn’t trust, but does that work for river water?” Eddie shrugs at the camera, honestly clueless. “Well, anyways, bottoms up!” 

He drinks only half the can - just enough to quench his thirst - and proceeds onward. “Not the best start, to say the least,” he tells the recording viewfinder as a way to end the segment. “But at least it’s just your standard trouble. Nothing weird.” With a chuckle, he sarcastically adds, “Because nothing weird’s ever happened in the woods, right?”

**HUNGRY.**

_ Eating… _

**We’ve been eating all day! Need more than limp, stationary green food.** Venom shows the bunny images of creatures they’ve seen throughout the forest. Birds, gophers, fish, foxes, people - 

The bunny’s hind brain responds with overwhelming,  _ paralyzing _ fear. Followed by images of other bunnies being carried off by birds, chased away by gophers, drowning in the river, getting ripped apart by clawed, fanged beasts, and shot by humans. 

**I will protect you** , Venom growls, coating the bunny’s feet in impenetrable skin. 

But the bunny has almost no control over its fear. That quaking, terrified reflexive response needs to be taught to relax, trained into calmness. But there’s no way to teach the bunny not to fear foxes when any fox they encounter immediately starts to chase the bunny. 

**You’re hopeless** , Venom hisses, frustrated.

As the fluffy creature continues its grazing, Venom sticks his tongue into the wind, searching for  _ any _ alternative. Pursuing meat, for now, is a hopeless venture, but at the very least, a little variety would be nice. Some berries or trashed picnic food abandoned in the woods by hikers. 

It takes half an hour, but once the wind changes direction, he catches a hint of something familiar. 

Since it doesn’t smell like meat, the bunny lets Venom track the scent.

On long, springy feet, they cover the distance in a heartbeat. It’s closer to the river than the bunny would like, but the timid thing’s fear doesn’t kick in until it picks up on Venom’s hesitation. 

He stops them short by a few feet to stare at the little hill of black beans coagulating on a rock. Suspicious of a trap, Venom breathes deep only to find a fresh, atypical scent still clinging to a pebble here, a clump of grass there. 

But, lord, what a scent…

Venom’s tongue flickers, unconsciously trying to catch more of it on the wind - the taste of cinnamon and smoked meat marinated in melancholy. 

Pulsing with anxiety, alive, and furless…

Human. 

Immediately, the bunny tries to pull in the other direction, heart beat rising.

**Shut up and eat the beans** , Venom growls. 

_ But - _

**Relax. The human is far away.**

But not too far to catch up to. 

Easy to track.

The scent fades as the breeze settles, leaving just the withering remains of the human’s passage imprinted lightly into the dirt. 

Venom pulls unconsciously in that direction.

And the bunny’s violent shivering brings him back, fear already growing inside its tiny body. An unpleasant reminder of just how much he needs MORE FOOD if he wants to have any control in this necessary partnership.

**Eat faster.**

_ Don’t want to follow the human. _ Because even this simple creature is clever enough to recognize Venom’s instinct to chase that scent. 

**We’ll stay out of sight** , he cajoles.  **Just want to look. Humans aren’t too scary, right? Used to be your handlers, right? And some are weak. Some are small. All have nubby teeth and nails. We can hunt it down -**

_ No! Still bigger than us. _

**Humans need to sleep. How about then?** Venom tries, voice slick with persuasion. 

The bunny munches miserably through the rest of the black beans, nose and ears twitching, aware and wary of predators, but the vehement denial doesn’t come, which means Venom is, for once, going to get his way. 

  
  


The woods are way fucking creepier than Eddie ever could’ve imagined. 

It’s broad fucking daylight, too. Creepy things are supposed to happen under cover of night, between midnight and 4 AM, during that range pop culture, myths, and legends like to label “the witching hours”. 

_ Not _ in the middle of the day, before all and sundry. 

“Are you  _ seeing _ this?!” Eddie whispers to his imaginary audience quietly enough that he’ll probably have to dub the words in post to be heard over the sound of the river. He points the camera at the other side of the river, zooming just to be sure.

“Oooook,  _ yeah _ , that’s - that is undeniably,  _ absolutely _ , DEFINITELY a rabbit trying to stalk a squirrel up a tree. Holy shit - ” Eddie fumbles the camera accidentally, but the image he’s zoomed into doesn’t change. 

“What the fuck is wrong with its face? Are those huge white patches  _ eyes _ or markings? But then, if those are markings, where the hell  _ are _ its eyes? Is it blind or deformed or...geezus, are those its teeth? It looks like a hybrid rabbit-eel experiment that got loose from an evil corporate lab. In fact, bet the bank that’s exactly what it is!” Eddie says seriously - mostly because his bank account is empty - and snaps his fingers for emphasis.

Which happens to be a mistake. 

Shoulda faked the snap. There’s just no way to make a snap quiet unless you fake it. But no - Eddie snapped his fingers for real. Because he’s an idiot. 

The creature on the other side of the river immediately whirls around, hair standing on end. And, holy fuck! 

From the side, the creature looked plenty freaky, but now those white, unfathomable eyes find Eddie’s direction and continue to track him as he side-steps towards shade. Its wide, funnel ears don’t twitch towards him, their “attention” still focused on any enemies that might appear from behind. 

So, it  _ can _ see. 

He’ll have to point that out to his “audience” in post because, at the moment, Eddie’s afraid to make any noise, in case sound galvanizes it to attack.

Fuck, can’t it just go back to trying to eat the squirrel? 

He’s ashamed to say it, but the creature is intimidating, despite its size. He tries to keep the camera pointed at the malformed creature for as long as possible, but as soon as he sees the thing take a few hops in his direction, he starts to run.

It’s not even a conscious decision. The impulse simply rises up, despite the fact that there’s a wide river separating him from the small, fluffy science experiment. 

Obviously, there’s no sound of pursuit behind him. 

Rabbits are prey animals, not predators. 

Probably doesn’t even have a chase instinct. 

God, he’s pathetic. Reduced to running from a bunny.

Still, he keeps going until he’s absolutely gassed. Not that it takes long to get to the point where every part of him is begging for oxygen, what with how he’s been treating his body post-breakup, but still. 

As he trips to a breathless stop, Eddie points at the viewfinder and says, “F-fuh huah-heh, f-f-uh-ture me-hh? P-please, huah-heh, huah, remembah huah-heh remember to edit this part out-hah. Gotta try to keep, huah-heh, the number of humiliating, huah-heh, videos of m-me floating out-hah, huah-heh, on the internet to a min-minimum-heh.”

  
  
  


The squirrel Venom had been half-heartedly trying to pursue - to no real effect, of course, since the bunny is paralyzingly afraid of heights - is immediately forgotten. There’s not much room for anything else once he spots the human with the wondrous scent. 

Venom’s mouth starts watering as he takes in supple limbs that bow at the joints, closing around a stocky frame in a defensive posture. Smart human for recognizing the danger. 

No, nevermind. 

Dumb human. Stupid human.  _ Loser _ human.

The idiot turns tail and gracelessly runs into the underbrush.

Fast things flee. 

Big things fight. 

But not this human.

With a tripping heartbeat chiming his direction for sensitive ears to follow, the human disappears out of sight at a slow, lumbering, noisy sprint that quickly becomes a jog as large footsteps meet exposed roots and shrubbery. 

What’s disturbing is how viscerally Venom needs to follow, every part of him railing  **NOT ENOUGH** .

Didn’t get to see the human well enough.

Didn’t get to taste more of his scent with the way the wind was blowing.

Didn’t get to observe him long enough to decide whether the human is better as a meal, or as a replacement host. 

Just, didn’t get  _ enough _ .

Before the bunny’s fear can kick in, Venom enhances the spring in its step and leaps across the river. As soon as feet noiselessly touch ground though, the bunny’s shivering. 

_ Don’t want to follow the human _ , it whimpers. 

Venom inhales the scent trail deep, expanding the bunny’s lungs with it.  **Smell that?** **_Fear_ ** **. The human is** **_frightened_ ** **. Frightened of** **_you_ ** **. Frightened of** **_us_ ** . 

Even his fear is delicious - slicked as it is with a bit of sweat and musk, like fine barbeque. He wants to taste the skin that can make that scent. Wants to lick against the grain to see that body shiver. 

Who knows what other tastes that human can make?

**Let us chase the frightened human** , Venom says, humming with need.

_ Cornered creatures lash out _ , the bunny prudently reminds him, mostly in images of the bites its littermates managed to land on “bad smelling” human handlers. 

**No cornering** , Venom promises.  **Just sneaking** . 

It’s a promise he manages to stick to as he catches up to the human. 

Mostly because the poor, unobservant thing spends so much time staring at the paper in his hands and talking to a black rectangle that he fails to notice small obstacles in his path that cause him to flail and stumble every few hundred meters, let alone Venom’s lazy attempts to stay out of sight.

It’s the easiest thing in the world to follow the human as he treks for hours along or near the bank of the river. 

As long as he stays out of frame of the camera, Venom is safe to stay in visual and hearing range, which happens to be a blessing like no other. He learns  _ so _ much. Most importantly, given his current Host’s faint-heartedness, he learns this human is harmless. 

Loud? Yes. 

Feignedly boisterous? Yes. 

But dangerous? 

Even the bunny knows not to be afraid by hour three. 

It’s written in the way the human winces at the plants he stumbles into, however hideous, tisking lightly at broken branches or shredded flora before moving on. There in the way he returns bird whistles or takes the time to film caterpillars and ant hills. 

For all that he’s obviously a tourist, out of place and uncomfortable in this environment, there’s a vein of awe in the grit of his voice as he takes the time to describe his surroundings to the camera.

His behavior and the sweet honesty of his scent are bolstered too by Maria’s memories. From this close, Venom recognizes his face, remembers the kindness he’d shown to a commonly disrespected woman and the empathetic sadness in his smile.

A sadness that hasn’t dissipated, apparently. 

Though his lips curve and the corners of his eyes wrinkle, hunched shoulders and tense eyebrows give credence to the note of sorrow in his scent profile. 

The sadness is a good reason to eat the man and be done with him. It speaks of weakness. Of some pathetic quality that’s stuck with this human for months now, which is not something Venom wants in a replacement Host.

But each time Venom considers going in for the kill, he talks himself out of it. 

Killing can be done at any time, but it can never be  _ undone _ . 

For the moment, the human’s stories are entertaining. Listening to how the human views this alien place, seeing what he chooses to point his viewfinder at, hearing the personal anecdotes that he weaves in - it’s enough reason to leave the killing for later. 

And towards the end of the day, as the sun is setting, Venom learns just how truly stupid this human is. From across what could be tentatively called a clearing, he watches the human try various ways to end his video.

“This is Eddie, signing off! ...No, what? That’s terrible. How about, Thanks for joining me! See you on the next adven - shit.” Rubbing his forehead, the human - Eddie - smiles self-deprecatingly at the camera and says, “If you’re still here, so long and thanks for all the fish!” 

And then he’s left shivering in the shadow-laced moonlight with neither campfire, pop-up tent, or sleeping back set up. Half-heartedly, Eddie fumbles with the pop-up tent only to give up in favor of unrolling his sleeping bag. For ten minutes, he struggles with the zippers before he’s finally able to slip inside.

The obvious decision is to eat Eddie.

It’s so rare for prey to both provide a trap and then place itself inside it. 

Pre-packaged dinner. 

But he smells too good to eat. 

With an undecided sigh, Venom takes a few hops out of the shadows, purposely finding dried leaves and moonlight, purely for the pleasure of seeing what Eddie will do. 

The answer is immediate.

With a choked off shriek, Eddie sits straight up, hands flailing to escape the confines of his zippered bed. It takes a good half-minute for him to free at least his upper torso. 

Venom gives him the time, only closing the distance by a few more hops, ears practically vibrating with Eddie’s strangled breathing. With his perfect night vision, he can see Eddie’s widened eyes, his trembling lips. 

A human-sized portion of energy inside a bunny-sized Host means freedom to wrest control from the little creature and find someone strong to inhabit rather than trapping himself in another pathetic Host. Venom expects the human to run and he’s fully prepared to give lethal chase. 

Instead, Eddie stays put.

Sometimes, the bunny likes to freeze too, when shock paralyzes its limbs. He’s convinced Eddie is in a similar state, senselessly locked in place, up until the man starts calling out to him.

“Th-there b-boy...th-there b-boy…” Eddie sticks out a trembling hand in Venom’s direction, wide eyes flickering first to meet Venom’s gaze and then down and away.

Venom snorts at the confused signals. 

Instead of deceptively playing dead, instead of aggressively trying to frighten Venom away, instead of submissively prostrating himself before a predator, this idiot chooses to stick his hand closer to long, needle-teeth in the hopes that Venom will react like a common housepet.

Lucky idiot. 

He has no idea how enticing his scent is. No instinct, no reasoning, no intuition informs him to hold out his hand. It’s just blind luck that the one thing Venom really wants is the one thing Eddie offers in this critical moment. 

With a huff of self-disgust, Venom closes the distance slowly, part of him hoping Eddie will jerk away, give Venom a reason to eat him. 

But Eddie, for all that his heavy pants and sweaty palms speak of panic and anxiety, lets Venom into his space, lets him nose at his damp palm and sniff bare, sturdy wrist.

And the scent Venom finds there is  _ glorious _ . 

So good that he can’t help but roll some of his tongue out to lick along cracked fingertips, down the lengths of calloused fingers, into the dip of Eddie’s hot, sweaty palm. 

With a moue of discontent, Eddie’s hand twitches like he’s going to pull away.

Growling low in warning, Venom places the length of his hindfoot over Eddie’s wrist.

Cursing under a shocked inhale, the human immediately starts a mantra of, “G-good-d b-boy…  _ N-nice-ce _ boy…” and lets Venom drink his fill without further protest. 

Except there is no “fill”. 

For every lick he tries to quench his desire with, the desire doubles. Until it’s not enough to taste. He needs to submerge into that scent, inhale and exhale that scent, drown in that scent. And even then, he’s not convinced it will be enough. If he spent a thousand years living within the sphere of this scent, he’s afraid it still wouldn’t be enough.

Venom doesn’t know what to do with such overwhelming need. Has never experienced anything like it before. But one thing’s for certain. Eating this scent would definitely be  **NOT ENOUGH** . 

Can’t lose this scent.

Can’t separate from this scent. 

Must have it. 

Which means he has to take Eddie as his Host. 

Stifling a groan, Venom starts trying to decide how best to transfer himself when he suddenly feels something solid travel gently along the length of his ear. 

Eddie’s thumb. 

Because Eddie is now petting him as if he was an actual bunny. 

Humming under his breath, in between soft coos and whispered “Good b-boy”s, Eddie works his fingers in the gentlest strokes over the bunny’s matted, mud-caked fur. It’s minimal contact. Shouldn’t be enough to get a sense of Eddie’s thoughts. 

And yet, Venom feels the endless, yawning pit of loneliness as if it were his own. Followed closely by the overwhelming need to reach out. To touch, to hold, to  _ hug _ . 

Still in a whisper, Eddie says, “Y’know, you kind of remind me of Sparks. When my dad first got him for me, he was the meanest, snarliest Jack Russell terrier I’d ever seen. It took weeks to get to know him, get him to trust me, but once he did?” 

Without any effort, without rifling through memories or digging for information, Venom sees a little, energetic dog playfully nipping at a young boy’s heels, performing tricks on command, sleeping next to Eddie’s head. 

That last part comes through strongest. 

Venom hears Eddie swallow hard, knowing better than to push his luck with some strange beast of the forest, but the desire is there. 

To touch, to hold, to  _ hug _ .

It’s so strong that, for a moment, Venom forgets that he’s not the one who wants those things.  _ Eddie _ does.

_ Eddie _ , who isn’t his Host yet. Who should have no hold or sway over Venom. 

And yet, whose desires feel like his own. 

Without consciously deciding to do so, Venom hops into Eddie’s lap and nudges at the nearest arm, granting permission.

Wide-eyed from shock rather than fear, Eddie slowly, carefully lets his arms come around Venom in a loose hold. He’s swallowing more frequently and is slow to resume the carefully telegraphed pets, eyes locked on Venom’s face, taking in the odd eyes and teeth, but he wants more - to cradle the bunny’s head and to hug the dirty creature to his chest.

As soon as Venom feels it, he wants it too. Or maybe Eddie wants it? It’s hard to tell. With his own need to be closer to that scent and Eddie’s need for physical contact with a living thing, it could come from both of them. 

To hasten the process, Venom stands on hind legs and rests himself along the length of Eddie’s chest. 

Again, there’s a startled little gasp of surprise. “Huh, you’re a lot bigger than I first thought you were,” Eddie whispers, slowly resting his hand against the bunny’s back. Careful fingers pick and crush at clumps of dried mud, crumbling them away. 

“White fur...y-you really  _ are _ an escaped science experiment,” Eddie guesses.

Venom doesn’t answer, nuzzling his small head into the cradle of Eddie’s clavicle, savoring the proximity to Eddie’s vulnerable neck, enjoying how Eddie doesn’t flinch.

They rest that way for the longest time. 

So long, that Eddie’s lids grow heavy, fall closed, and he rests his back more firmly against the tree he’s been leaning against as he drifts almost straight into dreams, exhaustion hastening his entry into REM sleep. 

Venom knows this because, for some reason, he can see them through touch alone, as if tuned into the same channel Eddie is watching. 

He wishes he couldn’t see. Wishes he could  _ unsee _ . Because, what he sees is Eddie’s desires written out in color and sound. Scenes interwoven with a tiny patch-colored dog that turns into a scruffy, odd-faced bunny he can cuddle and play with, whisper secrets to, fall asleep beside. 

If Venom transfers now, there won’t be a bunny in the morning. For all that the fluffy creature isn’t afraid of Eddie anymore, it’s a timid thing that will run at the slightest provocation. Would gladly run away right now and hide itself in a burrow. 

Venom tries not to care. 

Slips a tendril into Eddie’s core, letting part of himself absorb into Eddie’s stomach, only to recoil as the man unconsciously ducks his head to nuzzle the creature his body still senses he’s holding.

Vibrating with frustration, Venom retracts into the bunny and just lets himself be cradled. 


End file.
